


Flat 6

by Llama



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 19:38:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama/pseuds/Llama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are three things Merlin has always found it difficult to say no to. The posh git in Flat 6 might just be the fourth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flat 6

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cat_77](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cat_77/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Квартира номер шесть](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037630) by [Wintersnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wintersnow/pseuds/Wintersnow)



> For the request: Merlin openly using magic.

The first time it happened, Merlin couldn't really blame Arthur for it. If anything it was the fault of the ladder, or possibly just Merlin's helpful nature. After all, that's why he was up a ladder in the foyer of his apartment building in the first place, tacking up the dangling Christmas lights.

"Hey, you up there!"

It took a moment for Merlin to realise someone was trying to attract his attention. Or possibly some _thing_. This wasn't completely out of the question, because Merlin's life was all kinds of weird on a regular basis, but on balance it seemed safe to assume that whatever was under the fifteen layers of snow protection was human. 

Merlin shifted his feet carefully on the ladder to give him a better view. It didn't help much. "Me?"

The bundle of coats and scarves huffed impatiently, dislodging some flakes of snow. "I don't see anyone else here," it said. 

"Well," Merlin started, because from his vantage point he could see a few. Of course, he didn't have acres of scarf and balaclava obscuring his vision. 

The bundled figure didn't seem to be in the mood to listen.

"My heating is broken. It has _been_ broken for five days now." There was an expectant air about the man that confused Merlin, but it seemed rude just to ignore the statement.

"Oh, bad luck," he said sympathetically. "That's—"

"I'll expect you within the hour to deal with it. Arthur Pendragon, flat 6." And the figure stomped off towards the stairs, sad little puddles of melted snow marking his progress through the foyer.

Merlin gaped after him. "What? I think you've— I'm not—"

"Within the hour!"

Merlin wasn't going to go, of course. The man had been rude, he hadn't even tried to listen, and he'd mistaken Merlin for some sort of caretaker or maintenance person. Merlin could tell from the voice alone that he was exactly the type of posh git who expected everyone else to inconvenience themselves for him.

Merlin wasn't going to be one of them. He made himself a cup of tea and even went so far as to switch on the TV. 

He didn't sit down.

There was no reason for him to go. He didn't know the first thing about how the heating system worked, and he wasn't supposed to. It wasn't his job. He didn't _have_ a job, not really.

But Merlin had a nice warm flat to sit in, even if it wasn't really his, and this Arthur Pendragon, however posh, gittish and grumpy he was, didn't. It had been the worst December Merlin could remember as far as the weather went.

And there was a distinct possibility he _could_ fix the heating. 

Flat 6, to Merlin's complete lack of surprise and utter vindication, was one of the more expensive apartments in the building. At least two bedrooms, Merlin thought, vaguely wishing he wasn't spending his nights on Gwen's sofa. Maybe even three. Gwen had made her place very homey, but it looked cramped and poky next to Flat 6.

"Wow," Merlin said, peering past the bulk of the still bundled up Arthur. "Nice place." 

"It was." Arthur's temper didn't seem to have improved much. "Until the cold weather started." There was still snow on his shoulders, and Merlin couldn't resist brushing it off. 

"If it's actually snowing in here, Arthur, you may need more than my help," he grinned. It didn't seem to lighten the mood.

Arthur just snorted. "I suppose you think that's funny." 

"Yep," Merlin said brightly, and followed him inside. "Okay, so... heating?"

"Heating, yes." And there was that expectant air again. 

"Where?" Merlin was starting to think this had been a bad idea. What was he even going to look at? Boilers. He had a vague notion that boilers might be involved. "Um. I mean, where's the boiler?"

"Don't you know?" Arthur was busy removing a few layers of outer clothing, but he still found time to shoot Merlin a puzzled look. 

Oh yes, Merlin was supposed to be a caretaker. "They're all different," he invented cheerfully, and followed Arthur's nod of the head towards the bathroom. "Put the kettle on, will you? I'm missing my, um, my tea break type thing."

Arthur spluttered something behind him, but Merlin wasn't listening. He could already tell where the problem was; it was obvious as soon as he entered the bathroom. There was an area of _empty_ and _wrong_ and _silent_ where things didn't quite fit. 

He put his hands on the pipes leading to the bathroom radiator and concentrated. He could feel, or sense, perhaps, where the pipes travelled, where they connected. Where the connections were broken. He whispered to the heating system, letting his voice vibrate through his body, magic tingling through his fingers where they touched cold, dead metal. 

He'd barely finished whispering before warmth started to spread under his hands. Something inside the boiler whirred and clunked faintly, settling into a low hum that filled the out-of-place silence. 

Merlin thought he'd probably done it the wrong way around — that the boiler was supposed to start up before the pipes began to warm — but he didn't think it mattered. He didn't need to know how the heating worked any more than he needed to know how his car worked or even the magic itself. Things wanted to operate the way they were designed: Merlin just helped them get back to that state.

"Did I hear—" Arthur started when Merlin strolled back into his living room. He looked surprised. And also, really rather handsome now that he'd unwrapped a bit. Who would have guessed?

"Yep." Merlin grinned at him. "All fixed. You should be thawed out in no time."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "How is that possible?"

"Magic," Merlin said, helping himself to a biscuit from the kitchen counter and looking meaningfully at the teapot. "I'm really good at it."

"You don't even have a toolbox," Arthur said, completely ignoring Merlin but looking even more suspicious. "Are you some sort of conman? Are you going to relieve me of my life savings now as well as my chocolate digestives?"

"And tea," Merlin said, just to make sure. "The tea's very important." 

Arthur kept looking at Merlin while he brewed and poured the tea, regarding him as if he might explode or something at any moment, or perhaps pull out a gun and demand his wallet, or the combination to a hidden safe. Arthur, Merlin thought, was exactly the type to have a hidden safe full of stuff he thought was valuable.

Comic books, probably. He looked like he might have a secret stash of comic books worth thousands. Were there even comic books worth thousands? Merlin rather thought there might be.

"And you don't want anything else?"

Merlin was going to just say no, drink his tea and go, but... he'd done Arthur a favour, probably stopped him from freezing to death or at least from another miserable cold night, and all he was getting was an interrogation. That was the kind of thing that made him speak his mind, even when he shouldn't.

"There are three things I can never say no to," Merlin said. "Tea, chocolate biscuits, and blowjobs." He picked up another biscuit and waved it at Arthur cheekily. "Two out of three's not bad."

He was expecting bluster and outrage, or perhaps to be thrown out of the front door. What he wasn't expecting was for Arthur's cheeks to turn pink -- too quickly for it to be down to the newly-fixed heating -- and his eyes to darken in a disturbingly attractive manner. 

"Oh." Merlin blinked, and looked again at Arthur. "Really?"

Merlin still only managed two out of three, but in the circumstances he wasn't going to hold a cold cup of tea against Arthur. 

That would just be petty.

* * *

The second time was definitely Arthur's fault.

It had to be, because torrid encounters between posh gits and their (not really) manual worker neighbours only happened in porn, and not in Merlin's real life. Sad, but true. Therefore, it had been clearly Arthur's fault the first time, and even more Arthur's fault the second. Also, he was the one who called Merlin.

Maybe it happened to Arthur all the time, Merlin thought. Maybe Arthur had a _fetish_ for seducing workmen. Maybe he phoned them up all the time pretending he needed things done. It was probably a bad sign that Merlin not only didn't care, but found the idea vaguely arousing. 

"You rang, Milord," Merlin said, pretending to doff his cap at the door. Though he was probably getting it wrong anyway— butlers didn't wear caps to doff, did they?

Arthur looked unimpressed, though Merlin doubted it had anything to do with his inadequate butler impersonation.

"The lights have gone out," Arthur said abruptly. "Something went 'pop' when I switched them on, and now they're all broken."

Even Merlin knew what had happened to Arthur's lights, and he had a strong suspicion that Arthur did too. He could ask Arthur for a torch, or go back down to Gwen's flat where he knew there was one, and find the fuse box, but that would take time, and Arthur was right there in front of him, waiting for Merlin to answer him.

Merlin realised he was staring at Arthur's lips when Arthur cleared his throat. "So, do you think you can help? Or will I be spending Christmas in the dark?"

"Hmm." Merlin stepped into the flat and felt around. "Close the door," he said, even though the light from the corridor was the only light in the room. 

"Don't you need—" Arthur started, then sighed when Merlin thumped his arm. "Fine, shutting the door now."

Merlin ran his hand down the wall until he felt the light switch, hummed and kept going. He let the hum transform into the nonsense words that worked for him, that came from god alone knew where, and he heard Arthur mutter something behind him. He couldn't pay attention now, though; there was more work involved in using magic to do this, but somehow it was important that Arthur knew he hadn't been joking about the magic.

He could feel it when something changed. He didn't need to know what it was, but the lights would work when they switched them on now. That was what mattered. A light sputtered to life somewhere behind Arthur even as he thought it. Arthur must have left that one on.

He should maybe have checked that first. And maybe started at the fuse box if he wanted to do it the right way, but it seemed to have worked just fine.

"Was that—?" Arthur's voice was a whisper behind him.

"Yeah," Merlin said. He could still feel the tingle of electricity in his fingers. It sort of tickled. "Told you it was magic."

Arthur took a step closer to him, blocking out most of the faint light in the flat. 

"They'll all work now," Merlin said, trying not to let his voice tremble. He could barely even see the shadow of Arthur's mouth, but he could remember how it felt closing around his cock; he really, _really_ hoped he'd get to feel that again, preferably some time soon. "Do you want me to—"

"Don't turn them on," Arthur ordered, and pushed Merlin against the wall. His hands felt huge on Merlin's shoulders, and Merlin wasted a moment wishing that a posh, bossy git manhandling him wasn't such a turn on before he gave in to it and groaned. 

"Is this—?" One of Arthur's hands ran down Merlin's body and toyed with the zip on his jeans.

"Yeah," Merlin breathed. "Please."

Merlin didn't get even a cold cup of tea that time, or a chocolate biscuit either. In the spirit of Christmas, such as it was, Merlin decided to overlook it just this once.

* * *

The third time... well. Merlin tried not to think about that one too much.

Arthur claimed his oven was broken, but Merlin couldn't find anything wrong with it when he ran his hands over it. He frowned, puzzled.

"Are you sure it's not working?" he asked Arthur. "How do you know? Were you using it at the time?"

"I didn't get that far," Arthur said, and his voice was suspiciously close to Merlin's ear. "There's always a light just _here_." Merlin could feel Arthur move closer as he pointed. "And the clock is showing the wrong time."

Arthur was almost pressed against Merlin's back by now. It was more than a little distracting, and Merlin had the faint suspicion that Arthur wasn't too bothered whether his oven worked or not. 

"It's probably—" Merlin gulped as one of Arthur's hands slid around his waist, the other seeking out his zip. "Um. Probably just the clock that's broken then." He held his hand over the display and tried to get his voice to intone the words properly, but hand and voice were both a little too unsteady to do any good. Merlin's legs followed suit once Arthur had his hands all over Merlin's bare skin, fingers sure and firm where they grasped Merlin's cock, stroked down his hip and thigh.

"Come on, Merlin," Arthur said, as calmly as if Merlin wasn't bucking half naked against him in his kitchen, as if he wasn't moments away from making Merlin come all over his hand. "I don't think you're holding up your end of the deal here."

"W-what deal is that?" Merlin asked, because his brain was seconds away from dribbling out of his ears, if he was any judge. "Nobody told me there was a deal involved." But somehow he managed to hold his hands steady long enough and make his voice vibrate low and growly enough for _something_ to happen. He hoped the clock was fixed, but he had no intention of stopping Arthur for long enough to check.

"Oh god," Arthur groaned. "Do you have any idea—" But whatever he was going to say was lost, because he turned Merlin abruptly, pushing him back against the oven and the kitchen counter, the clock timer merrily whirring away as it reset itself behind Merlin's bare arse, and swallowed Merlin's cock down like he'd been thinking of nothing else for days.

If he'd been anything like Merlin, he probably _had_ been thinking about it for days. 

"Thanks," Merlin said awkwardly when Arthur pulled away from him at last, a dazed and satisfied expression on his face that probably matched how Merlin felt. He gestured down at Arthur. "Do you want me to—"

He thought later that it had been a smile just starting on Arthur's face, before his expression turned to horror at the sound of a key in the door. 

"Arthur, darling!" A female voice called out, and what happened after that was a blur of screeches and apologies and Arthur alternately blustering and looking furious. 

Merlin was trying not to think of it at all, or the 'A. and M. Pendragon' he'd noticed, far too late, on the letterbox in the hall downstairs. He wasn't succeeding.

"Oh, Merlin," Gwen said, patting his hand gently. "You know I'll always make you tea." She'd even bought chocolate biscuits for him, even though she claimed not to like them. Merlin was still going to hide them behind the three year old box of nettle tea when he went out. 

They weren't as nice as Arthur's biscuits, but at least she wasn't a no good, cheating, lying scumbag who was _married_.

Merlin was much better off without the posh git in Flat 6. He'd stick with tea and biscuits. You could rely, he thought, on tea and biscuits.

* * *

Merlin didn't expect to hear from Arthur again. He certainly didn't expect to be tracked down to Gwen's flat on Christmas Eve, of all days, even if the flat was only three floors below Arthur's.

Arthur had barely opened his mouth before Merlin was pushing the door shut in his face, and if it hadn't been for one of Arthur's size twelves in the door that would have been the end of it.

"Move it before _I_ do," Merlin warned him, letting a little of the magic vibrate in his voice. Arthur paled visibly.

"Merlin, please." Arthur said, and it was only the note of desperation in his voice that made Merlin pause. He stopped pushing the door at Arthur's foot and really looked at him. 

He looked _awful_. 

Merlin wasn't going to crack though. Arthur was scum: lying, cheating, scum. He folded his arms.

"Whatever you've broken this time, I can't help you, Arthur," he said, as coldly as he could manage. 

"Actually, you're the only one who can." Arthur attempted a smile, but it was still more of a grimace. "Morgana and I--"

Merlin winced. He couldn't help it.

Arthur stopped and scrunched up a handful of his hair in obvious frustration. "My _sister_ and I would like to apologise for our appalling behaviour. Will you come to dinner tonight?"

Dinner. In Flat 6? And ... sister? Merlin shuffled the pieces around in his head in the light of this new information, but... no. It still didn't fit.

"The only things that are broken are apparently my manners, for not asking you out properly sooner," Arthur said, gesturing to himself, "and Morgana's sense of humour."

"That was supposed to be a joke?" Thinking about it in this light, Merlin could see how the screams of 'Arthur, you trollop!' and 'How could you, Arthur! Think of the poor children!' might not have been intended seriously, but he'd been too busy feeling mortified at his dick still hanging out to see past the 'Oh shit' factor of apparently being caught with a married man. "There's something really wrong with your sister, Arthur."

"Tell me about it," Arthur muttered. "But she has offered to cook for us to make up for upsetting you." He offered Merlin a hopeful look. "She's a fantastic cook, and I... am really not."

Merlin nodded. "And will your insane sister be joining us for this meal?"

Arthur snorted, then turned it into a polite cough. "Merlin," he said, looking Merlin right in the eye. "I promise you I am _not_ inviting my sister to join us on our first proper date."

Merlin couldn't help it, he could feel his mouth twitch up at the corners. “If Morgana is doing the cooking,” he said, thinking out loud. “Does that mean you're free to come in for a cup of tea now?”

Arthur smiled, and finally moved his foot out of the door. “Do you know, Merlin,” he said. “I believe I am.”

The End


End file.
